here i love you
by closingdoors
Summary: Unrelated oneshots. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain._  
_I love you still among these cold things._  
_Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels_  
_that cross the sea towards no arrival._  
_I see myself forgotten like those old anchors._  
- Here I Love You, Pablo Neruda.

* * *

**This will be one of many unrelated oneshots that are probably not long enough to actually be called oneshots. Everybody else was doing it, and I've fallen behind on NaNoWriMo by about 4,000 words, so why not eh?**

* * *

The bed is too cold when he wakes.

Blindly, his hand searches out for the familiar warmth of her body, her soft curves and sleepy smile beside him. Instead his hands settle upon cold, empty blankets, and not her. He pauses for a moment, trying to clear his sleep-muddled mind, but drawing up blanks as to where she could be.

He turns to the clock to find it reads four in the morning. Strange. She hasn't been awake at this hour in a long, long time.

So he pulls back the covers with a sigh, shivering when his feet come into contact with the bare floor. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head (force of habit ever since that time Alexis walked in on- well) and heads out of the room.

The sight he finds should not be as breathtaking as it is.

She's bathed in the half-light of the morning, catching the golden tones in her air, casting shadows from her long, dark eyelashes and casting a silhouette of her perfect curves. She's sat upon a stool at the island, eating spoonfuls of peanut butter with a hand atop her enlarged stomach. It's all so- So _simple._ But he supposes the simplicity of it all is what makes it beautiful, because Kate has always been beautiful without even trying, but now this is _his. _Kate Beckett is here, with him, and she wants this as much as he does.

Without saying a word he crosses the room until he's behind her, wrapping arms around her so that his large hands rest on her stomach, pressing a kiss into her hair. She doesn't startle, acting as though she has been expecting him all along. She probably has.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asks her gently.

With a sigh, she rests her head back onto his chest, relaxing into him. "No," she sighs, "the little bugger's been playing football with my organs all night."

He runs a comforting hand across her stomach, wishing he could soothe the pain. "So you came out here to eat peanut butter?"

He feels her scowl, but she giggles. "I had the strangest need to eat some peanut butter, okay? Besides, baby settles down easier when I'm sitting up."

"And you couldn't sit up in bed?"

"Well, I wanted peanut butter too, so I got up." She says as though it's simple.

He sighs. "You should've woken me up." He tells her, raising one hand to brush her hair to one side, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "I would've come and got your damn peanut butter for you."

"I'm _fine, _Castle." She assures him, craning her neck slightly to look back at him. "You don't need to coddle me."

"I _want_ to coddle you." He sulks, forcing his lower lip out.

She laughs brightly, straining upwards slightly to kiss him gently, reaching back to run a hand through the short hair on the nape of his neck. The small action warms his heart. He always cherishes these moments, because honestly? Never in a million years, not even when they'd first got together, had he imagined that one day she would be living with him- and _pregnant._ It had always seemed like such a far off dream. But the day when she'd practically dragged him from the precinct with a mixture of nerves and happiness in her eyes and blurted out _you've knocked me up, Castle,_ everything changed. His dreams were no longer dreams, but a reality. And it was so wonderful.

"Here."

Kate guides one of his hands lower on her stomach, and he suddenly feels something protruding her skin, sharp. He gasps, overwhelmed as he glances down at her.

"Is that-?"

"Baby." Kate supplies when he's at a loss for words, grinning because his happiness is infections. "Yeah."

"Oh, Kate."

He's not quite sure what to do with himself. He's so overwhelmed with love and happiness that he's lost all ability to function. But Kate seems to understand, turning the stool around so that she's face to face with him and pulls him to stand between her legs, cupping his face with her hands. His own hands raise to wrap around her wrists, squeezing lightly.

"I love you, Castle." She tells him softly, smiling, eyes bright. "I love you."

And even that- The fact that, now, it comes so easily for her, that she can just _say _it like that, is enough to cause the tears to start spilling from his eyes like a wimp. He'd be ashamed if he weren't so god damn proud of her, of everything they've become. Yes, he loves this reality. But, mostly, he loves this reality because it's better than all of his dreams could have ever amounted to.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Espo, look at this."

Ryan spun on his chair to face his partner, grinning down at his phone that he held in his hands. Esposito turned too, eyebrows raised at the sickeningly and strangely smitten expression his partner was wearing.

"What is it, bro?"

Ryan held out his phone for his partner to see, eyebrows wiggling. "Castle tweeted."

The detective grabs the phone, surprised when he sees the tweet.

There's only three words:_ Isn't she beautiful?_

Followed by a picture of the beautiful Detective Kate Beckett by the sea. The waves are just about curling over her bare toes, white sundress billowing behind her as she turns to the camera, grinning enigmatically and, it seems, holding out a hand for Castle. The afternoon sun paints her in reds and oranges, and Esposito thinks that he hasn't ever seen her look more happy.

But he snorts and passes the phone back to Ryan. "Sap."

The other detective simply shrugs, unashamed. "It's good to see them like that. I never thought we would."

Esposito hesitates, tries to go for manly nonchalance when he says, "Yeah, me too, bro."

* * *

Kate Beckett _giggles_, which still astounds him, as she reaches out a hand for him to join her, the waves lapping at her toes. All her golden hair waves in the air behind her, just as he dress does. He has to stop for a moment, grabbing his phone and quickly snapping a shot, even though it makes her roll her eyes afterwards.

Quickly, he tweets the picture, along with the caption _Isn't she beautiful?,_ before she can stop him. She doesn't stop grinning, though, simply grins wider when he takes her hand.

"You know," Her voice is low and sultry when she speaks, "this is a private beach."

"That it is, Detective." He replies dryly.

But then Kate's turning on him with hooded eyes and biting her lip, slowly leading him into the sea. "I hear skinny dipping is quite fun this time of year."

_Oh._

"Is that so?" Castle teases, a smile growing on his features.

He allows her to pull him further into the sea until they're waist-deep, until he can't stand that look she's giving him anymore. He grabs Kate and anchors her to him, and she giggles _again, _so sultrily it drives him _crazy._ Then her legs wrap around his waist and her arms hook around his neck, lips teasing the edge of his jaw. Evil, evil woman.

"I suppose we'll have to test out that theory then." He manages to choke out, before leaning down and claiming her lips with his.

The fire uncurls slowly in his veins, and her pace is so slow despite the wicked look in her eyes- But, of course, this has always been more than just lust. Even amidst the lust and wickedness and the teasing, he can still see her love for him in those hazel orbs.

She kisses him softly, before pulling away slowly, seemingly happy to drink him in for a while.

And then he shows her how much he loves her all over again.

* * *

If anyone were ever to ask, he would adamantly deny it. No, he wasn't a sap like Ryan, or as girly as Lanie, so why would he ever find himself looking at Castle's twitter when he can't get to sleep at four am in the morning?

He's honestly rather surprised when he finds that there's another picture on Castle's twitter, as though he'd expected Beckett to go crazy at Castle breaching her idea of personal space over the first one. But it's still there, and it makes his heart warm slightly- Though, of course, he'd deny it if anyone were ever to ask. Not that he was even looking in the first place. Of course.

_For those who doubted me._

Esposito wonders if Kate will ever see this photo.

She's asleep, face turned away from the camera slightly, exposing the hard line of her jaw as her hair is splayed behind her. But the moonlight dances gracefully on her face, in her hair, colouring her silver. In the corner of the photo, Esposito can see one of her long hands curled around anothers, and he fights back a smile at that.

Yeah, Castle will definitely take good care of her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Set after the freezer scene in season 3, where Josh does not come back from Haiti. PS: Thank you for all your kind words on this small fanfiction of mine. I hate not being able to reply to you individually, but I'm always swamped with A-Level work, homework and coursework, and all my spare time I spend writing. However I do want you guys to know that I appreciate it. So much.**

* * *

He can only think of one person; she's crossed over the brink of consciousness in his arms.

_Kate._

But his eyes are drooping and his vision blurs, so in his last moment he remembers the feel of her in his arms and how tender her voice had been when she'd said _Castle, thank you for being there...__I just want you to know how much I..._

It's the last thing he sees until everything hurts so much he gives in, and closes his eyes to die.

* * *

It's the blurt of ambulance sirens that wakes him.

He jerks upwards, disorientated and off balance, the world still not quite making sense. There's a figure beside him, but his vision is still blurry at the edges, and they're trying to push him down back onto the gurney but he fights against it because-

"Beckett." He chokes out. "Kate!"

"Woah, easy pal."

The figure beside him finally talks and the shock of it causes Castle to freeze. He rests on his elbows and stares at the man, blinking away the layer of haze over his eyes. A paramedic. Oh, God, they were found. They're safe. Right? At least, he's awake, he's alive. He feels numb all over and cold inside, but he's safe. That must mean that Kate's safe too.

"Sir, I'm gonna need you to calm down."

The voice echoes around his mind, so he struggles up again, forcing his way against the paramedics hands.

"Where is she?" He demands, well aware his voice is shaking like a leaf.

But then he's talking about hypothermia, and Ryan and Esposito are there talking about the bomb and their amazing skills as detectives, and he doesn't care. He doesn't care at all. He needs to know that Kate's okay, that they weren't too late, that he hasn't gone and killed her all because he didn't stop her when they went rouge.

And then he spots her, over Ryan's shoulder, huddled in a blanket and smiling so openly at him it hurts.

So he grabs a blanket and pushes past them all.

* * *

Kate swallows, throat suddenly too tight to say a thing. He's alive. He's fine. They both are.

And he's here and Josh isn't.

Castle's bundling himself up in blankets and ignoring the protests of the paramedics, grinning sheepishly at her when he catches her eye. But she can't even be mad at him for ignoring all medical advice, because so is she, and she's been pacing up and down for the past fifteen minutes praying he'll wake up despite the reassurance of the paramedic that he would. And now as he approaches her, she feels her heart lighten from all the weight that she's been carrying around with her for so long.

Because he's _here._

* * *

He's not quite sure what to say when he meets her. Something about _can we please stop with the near death experiences please?_ But it gets stuck in his throat because of how stupidly beautiful she is. She looks so _happy._

"Hey." He greets lamely instead.

Kate laughs brightly, and he's shocked by it. It's not as though she's ever not laughed- she does have a rather beautiful laugh too- but not so much on the job, least of all after a near death experience and surrounded by the FBI.

"Castle." She says, mouth quirked at one side. "I meant it. Thank you for being... Here."

He catches onto the subtle message. Because his eyes had been roving around, waiting for that bulky man with the stupid hair to pop out of nowhere and brag about how he'd left all the kids in Haiti for Kate. Only, Castle hadn't found him. Part of him is pleased that Josh isn't here, because he can't stand the man. But then he hurts so much for Kate, because this is her boyfriend, and she likes him, and he's never there for her, not even now.

But he is. And she's thanking him for it.

Castle's never been good at finding words with her, though. He can call her extraordinary as much as possible, but he'll never feel fully satisfied over it all. Kate Beckett makes him speechless. That's never happened with any other woman before. So he simply grins nervously and wraps the blanket around himself tighter.

"Cold out here." He remarks, shivering.

He's got to be mistaken when her eyes fall to his lips.

It's just a for a moment, so he must be mistaking it, he must-

He's not.

Kate pushes up on her toes and gently presses her mouth to his. He goes still for just a moment, because _this is Kate Beckett and she has a boyfriend and she's unavaliable and made it clear that she'll never be avaliable_- but then her mouth pushes his open shyly. And _oh, _it's so warm and he feels safe here, with her, where he always does. So yes, yes, he opens his mouth to her slightly, and she sighs briefly before pulling away from him.

Her eyes dance with mirth and he can do nothing but stare at her.

"Find the bomb first, Castle. This later."

There's a possibility of _them. _Oh, God, he's going to pass out. This whole day has been far too much for him.

"There might not be a later if we don't find this bomb. Not much time left." He warns her quietly.

Kate bites her lip. "Don't be stupid, Castle, we have always."

And then she turns and walks off to that stupid Agent like what she's said is no big deal.

Suddenly his mind is filling with the possibility of more kisses and being able to hold her like he wants to and sleeping together at night and stealing private moments in the precinct and Christmases together and Kate Beckett in a white dress and a little girl with her fierce personality and _always._

He's pulled from it when he catches Ryan and Esposito staring at him, jaws almost hitting the floor. Castle flushes and attempts some of his usual charisma as he turns and follows after her, but it doesn't work too well, because his mind is swirling with the image of a gangly little girl curling between him and Kate in bed, mouth opening and hazel eyes bright as she says _"Mommy, Daddy, can I-"_

He's awfully excited for what later entails.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear BeyondHope89: If you want a personal reply, at least turn PM's on first. Secondly, once the majority of my coursework and January exams have passed, I can get back to PM-ing people for their reviews. However while I can't, I make sure to at least acknowledge my (lovely) reviewers with thanks at the beginning since I don't have time to reply to everyone _right now._  
**

* * *

"Kate."

Everything is dark.

It swamps her, and she can feel it invading her mind, pressing down and down and down. One hand rises of its own accord and presses above her scar. But there's fabric between her and the puckered skin, so she finds herself scrabbling wildly at it without thinking, trying to find solace in the wound, desperate to feel the rough edge of it against her fingertips.

"Kate, you're going to hurt yourself."

There's feather-light touches trailing across her wrists, and then her hands are being lifted away from her chest without her permission. But she drags them back and curls herself tighter into her ball, into her own little world, into her darkness.

It's dark again and she loves the way that it surrounds her, the way the silence fills her ears too and there's nothing save for the sound of her frantic heart.

* * *

He leaves her because it hurts.

Castle stands at the doorway to their room and stares at a Kate Beckett he's never known before. She's tucked away from him, under the covers of their bed in the foetal position, face buried into her knees and trembling. But she jerks away at each of his touches, and he can tell by the faraway look in her eyes that she doesn't pay attention to a word he's saying.

So he leaves her alone to her mind that he'll never fully understand, can simply try time and time again and love her with all of his ink-stained heart.

* * *

"Castle."

She cannot make sense of the word.

But it rumbles through her throat, wraps around her tongue and leaves her mouth unbidden, but free. It sends this tremble down her spine, and her eyelids drift open for just a moment to find a brief flicker of light.

"Castle" She says again, and she sees words and kisses behind her eyes, but grief swallows her whole.

* * *

He comes back to her because it hurts.

It hurts to know that while he's receiving sympathetic hugs from his Mother and daughter, she's losing her grip on reality. So he presses a kiss to his daughter's forehead and tells them he's going to talk to Kate again. They don't say a word. They never do.

The door slides open smoothly and he slips in quietly, unnoticed in the shadows.

Things are different in the room now. Kate's pushed the covers away from herself, and they lay on a heap on the floor. She's uncurled from her ball, and that soothes the soreness pounding in his heart slightly, but she's gripping onto the pillow for dear life, face pressed into it as her body jerks over and over from the force of her sobs, muffled gasps echoing every now and then.

"Kate."

Her name is the only thing he knows.

So he sits beside her on the bed and strokes her back lightly, even though she startles at each of his touches like he hurts her.

Like he did this.

* * *

"Castle."

"Kate?"

Oh. _Castle._

Her fingers throb with pain when she releases her grip on the pillow, turning slowly on her side to face him. His own face is streaked with tears as he watches her destroy herself, eyes shuttered and showing no emotion, as if he's afraid she'll take it all out on him. Again._  
_

But, no, no she won't. Never again.

"Castle."

His name is her anchor.

He shrugs his shirt and socks off, slipping into the small space beside her, warmth from his body wrapping around her and she sighs, falling into him because she doesn't know what else to do. This isn't her. She isn't someone who relies on people; that advantage had been taken away from her years upon years ago. Until him.

It's new and it's strange and it still hurts, but not so much as it would if she were alone.

"I don't know how to do this."

"I know, Kate. I know."

Castle holds her until she doesn't feel real anymore.

* * *

The next morning- or, to be precise, three in the morning- she presses a soft kiss to his cheek and hopes he understands.

"I'm sorry." She tells him, just in case.

"Not your fault. Not anybody's fault." Castle replies, stroking her arm reassuringly. "You haven't done a thing."

"I blamed you."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

He stares at her strangely for a moment, and those eyes of his are still shuttered, and she hates him a little bit for that. He's not supposed to be the emotionally void one in their relationship. That's always been her. That's her right now. How dare he behave in this way, as if he thinks he has any right to feel sorry for himself? As if it's going to help either of them, or any of this situation.

"I do." Castle says slowly.

She sniffles, pressing her face into his chest, hiding. Because every time she closes her eyes, she sees Castle pull the trigger, and Kevin Ryan falls to the floor.

And she doesn't love him any less for it, because it wasn't his fault, not really, he didn't mean to pull the trigger; the suspect had ambushed him.

But he killed Kevin Ryan.

And she loves him all the same.


	5. Chapter 5

**I am not back permanently. Warning: Angst ahead.**

* * *

He remembers when she tasted like love on his tongue, as though the warmth of her mouth was as warm as her heart, so full of the words she wasn't able to say yet.

He remembers when she felt like stardust beneath his fingertips, like she was bursting at the seams with this angelic, beautiful glow that had been hidden away inside of her for so long.

He remembers when she sounded like forever to his ears, and the way his name curled around her tongue was magical, a chant she repeated over and over as though she couldn't stop it from escaping her lips.

* * *

He now knows how her tears taste like regret, their warmth poisoned with bitterness just like her heart, as she turns away from him just in time to miss the sight of his own eyes leaking with heartbreak.

He now knows how she leaves a shadow in every place she ever touches, like the imprint of her body on the mattress that won't go away, the smell of cherries that lingers in his shower, and her name that his heart beats in the rhythm of.

He now knows how it feels to live without her, and none of his words in any of his books could ever describe how unbearably lonely it is to know he will never trace the lines of her face ever again with the tips of his fingers, how his body will never know hers once more, or how he will never see the sleepy smile on her face in the yellowness of the morning.

* * *

He will know how hard it is to move on from her, how every small and insignificant object in his life reminds him of her, and paints the memory of her smile in his mind, back when he was enough.

He will know how it is possible to move on from her, and that it is a hard and slow process that involves a heavy amount of mistakes and a lot of burning tears in the emptiness of the nights.

He will know how it is she managed to leave him, because just nights before she had whispered love into his heart and promised forever with a ring, and he'd never thought that promise would be one she'd break.

* * *

"Castle?"

Kate doesn't turn to him but lingers in the doorway, one hand curled around the ring she used to wear on her finger.

"What?"

His voice is low and grave, and he can't handle the sight of her anymore, so he turns away.

"I really love you, more than you'll ever believe."

And then she walks away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Post 5x09.  
**

* * *

It's been a long time since she's done this.

The cozy lights illuminating the loft, the twinkle of laughter across the table, the mouthwatering of taste of turkey.

It's been thirteen years since she last celebrated Christmas.

A small part of her yearns to be back out in the chill, inspecting another dead body and helping out a family she doesn't have. Except- this time. This time she has a family, doesn't she?

She wonders what her Dad's doing. They normally ignore Christmas, pretend it's something that never happens, acts as though the chill that seeps through her layers of clothing isn't a constant reminder of that fateful day. They normally forget that for the first 5 years after her Mom's murder, she'd come home to find him passed out on the sofa, drunk. And then she'd pick up the bottle herself with a bitter taste in her mouth, swigging halfheartedly as she sat at his feet, crying for her Mom and the winter that took her away.

Perhaps she should call him this time, let him know that celebrating Christmas is okay now. It's _always_ been okay.

But not now. Later- but this first.

Castle makes a joke, and Alexis laughs brightly as Martha chokes on a sip of her wine, giggling behind the rim of the glass. Castle's hand finds hers beneath the table, twines their fingers together and squeezes tightly.

She forces the lump in her throat away with a mouthful of wine, feeling warm and fuzzy and everything she hasn't in thirteen years.

* * *

"You okay?"

Kate's jolted from her thoughts as she feels one of Castle's large hands cup one of her elbows, large frame suddenly pressed against her as she stares up at the enthusiastically-decorated Christmas tree.

"Yeah, I- I'm fine." She tells him as she turns to him, smiling. "Where are Martha and Alexis?"

Castle rolls his eyes. "Gossiping. I was kicked out so they could talk about Alexis' new boyfriend." He mock pouts at her, raising a laugh from her.

Kate bites her lip. "Castle?"

"Yeah?"

_I love you I love you I love you _rolls around in her mind, but she holds the words back.

"I wanna do something."

* * *

Castle presses a tender kiss to the slope of her neck, and she hums in gratitude as she waits nervously for the sound of her Dad's voice.

"Katie?"

Her Dad's voice sounds through the phone, sleepy and disorientated. Most likely confused as to why she's calling, probably dreading the worst, and she feels herself burn with shame at that. Honestly, she really shouldn't have let her past rule her present life for so long. This day is just proof of how her present life can be full of joy.

Looks like her raggedy stick man in her desk drawer has been replaced by Castle.

And- Oh. Of course. Castle.

Before answering her Dad, she quickly turns to Castle and presses a grateful kiss to his cheek, making sure to thank him properly later. Of course it wasn't all him, but it was mostly him who dragged her out of her anti-holiday bubble and it was him who was constantly showing her that she'd made the right choice all those months ago. This was worth more than dying for a dead cause. _She_ was worth more.

She's not broken anymore.

"Hey, Dad." She greets him warmly.

"I... Is everything okay?"

She laughs at that, brightly, and can feel Castle smirking into her shoulder.

And then she tells her Dad everything.

* * *

Jim Beckett arrives half an hour later, looking nervous and afraid. Kate greets him with a smile and a large hug, pulling him into the loft and gushing over how good this Christmas is going to be. Castle, Martha and Alexis watch the two from afar. They certainly make a touching scene. What with Kate's flushed cheeks and bright smile, the curve threatening Jim's own lips as she glances away from his daughter and the surrounding Christmas decorations to find Castle's eyes instead.

Whatever troubles may have arisen between them due to that dreadful dinner weeks before, he's sure they're all forgiven now.

* * *

The fireplace crackles as Castle clears the last of the dishes away and Kate says goodbye to her father at the door. Castle gives the man a respectful wave and a smile, making sure to keep a safe distance between him and Kate, though Kate seems to have no problem with PDA's in front of her Dad.

But once he returns from the kitchen and Jim Beckett is gone, he finds Kate donning her coat and scarf. He feels his heart breaking all over again.

"You're going?" He asks brokenly, frozen mid-step.

Kate grins. "Yeah, and you're coming with me."

She practically dresses him for the winter weather, calling out to her Mother and Alexis that they'll be back soon, dragging him from the loft as his mind races at an extraordinary speed.

But she doesn't take him anywhere special, simply to a park a few blocks down. He studies her the whole way there, the snowflakes caught in her hair, the flush spread across her cheeks as she grips his hand like it's her lifeline. Castle idly wonders if she's aware of how beautiful she is.

Kate pulls him down onto a bench, and he's instantly damp from the snow, but he doesn't care because he feels like something special's going to happen.

"Castle." Kate murmurs, staring up at the sky and watching the flakes as they fall. "What's the time?"

He glances down at his watch, shocked when he replies. "Midnight."

Kate grins, turning away from the night sky and towards him.

"Merry Christmas." He says, still slightly unsure about what's going on, frozen to the bone now.

Then Kate leans over to cup his face with her hands, rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss, a content smile on her face. And that's when he understands what this is all about, this little bubble they've created amidst the snow and the cold and the day that changed her life.

Because then-

"I love you, Castle."

He answers by painting his love for her across her skin, his own heart murmuring _always, Kate._

Always.


	7. Chapter 7

**Originally written as one of a bunch of fanfictions I wrote for Zoe's Christmas present.**

* * *

Will teases her endlessly about it, making her cheeks flare red but she ignores him, book clutched in both her gloved hands as she marches away and towards the bookstore.

The winter is cold, so she's bundled herself into one of her largest (yet surprisingly flattering) coats, along with every item of clothing that she found in her closet that morning. The scarf is tight around her neck and her winter hat flattens the natural curls of her hair that she can't tame, but she likes to think she looks good. Not that she's trying to _impress _the guy or anything. Of course not. Will was totally wrong when he'd made that remark as he watched her apply her make up that morning.

Well, maybe she wants to impress him a _little._

The bookstore provides warmth and atmosphere. Hundreds of women, and some men, form a line so long that she can't see the beginning. But she joins the line and waits patiently amongst the other fans, occasionally checking her reflection in her pocket sized mirror- Just in case.

Halfway through the line, she receives a text from Will. She can practically feel the amusement rolling from the text_: You've been hours, you've not run off with Mr Perfect, have you?_

He probably thinks that he's being funny. Maybe a week ago, she would've found the text amusing. But now there's so much tension between the two of them ever since he accepted the next assignment. Will leaves in 3 weeks, and she's furious with him.

No, she can forget about that now.

And then comes her turn, after a fruitless amount of women all batting their eyelashes and coyly biting their lower lip at him, here comes her turn.

"Alright, who's next?"

God, he has a delicious voice.

Kate steps up before him, fingers flexing nervously around the book she holds in her hands just for a moment, until she hands it over to the author himself. Their fingers don't brush like she'd imagined- Well. Not that she's been imagining this moment. She's just excited to meet him.

"I'm Kate. Kate Beckett." She tells him, managing to keep her voice at a level that sounds confident only due to her interrogation training.

Richard Castle looks up at her (_God, _he has beautiful eyes), all charm and smiles. "Kate Beckett. I like it- Strong name."

Her heart flutters in her chest, and she hopes that her nerves aren't showing on the outside, although she can already feel her cheeks warming at the compliment. Of course this guy would like the sound of a name. He's a writer; her favourite writer. He's smart, incredibly so, and so talented. And, of course, he's smiling at her now as his pen glides across the front cover of her copy of _Flowers For Your Grave,_ but after this day he'll forget about her while she holds onto this day and the book he signs.

And she wants to say something to him- something that will matter. To stand out from the rest of his fans and show him how much he's actually _helped _her with his books. But the words sound so cliche, and she can't force them out. The words _thank you for saving my life _are on the tip of her tongue, but he's done signing, and he's smiling up at her saying "Thanks for coming."

She takes her book back with trembling fingers, biting her lower lip and disappointed in herself. This is the point where she should move on, back to her life where she's dependent on her career and the only man she's ever loved is leaving her in 3 weeks because he loves his job more and Richard Castle's books are the only thing that prevent her from falling into her Mom's case again after 3 years of therapy.

"Your books are more than just words on paper, you know." She tells him nervously, smiling shyly at the way his eyes widen and drink her in for the first time since she passed him the book.

Richard Castle finally regains control of his facial expression and smiles widely at her. "Thank you, detective."

She almost jumps in surprise. "How'd you know I'm a detective?"

He points towards the barely noticeable bulge in her jacket. "Your gun. And you don't look like the kind of lady who carries a gun for no reason. Unless you're planning on murdering me?"

Kate laughs and clutches her book to her chest, swallowing down the happiness that rises to her throat and threatens to spill out of her in tears. "Clever. Very clever, Mr Castle."

He opens his mouth to speak but then a woman with red nails and her poker face on leans down to him and says, "Time to move on to the next one, Ricky boy."

_The next one._

She'd forgotten she's just part of a crowd to him.

The author's head turns to her, apology written across his handsome features, and she simply shrugs her shoulders at him. Trying to form a smile is too hard right now. So he bows his head towards her and says something but she doesn't catch it because the world is caving into her ears as she turns away from him and walks from the bookstore, suddenly frightfully aware of how small and unimportant she is amongst the crowds of people on Earth.

Will meets her later on and takes her out to dinner, and she tries to forget all about how she's small and unimportant to everybody, even her father who won't stop drinking, and she tries to hold back the tears when Will kisses her and it feels wrong.

And then Will leaves 3 weeks later, and instead of moping about it, she finds herself in bed with Richard Castle's book, tracing the words he'd once written; _To Kate Beckett. I hope you find justice.  
_

_PS: You're too hot to be a detective._


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm now marking this fic as complete as I can't think of any more to add to it since starting _heart so helpless. _Sorry it's ending on a sad and rather morbid chapter. I was listening to sad songs and this happened, so.**

* * *

Kate buries her down into the covers with a sigh, one hand curled around the cold spot beside her. She feels the cold seeping slowly into her veins, until they fill with ice, freeze her heart.

The hand uncurls, flexes, traces the shadow imprint of a long gone body she once knew better than her own.

In the darkness of her room, she's safe with her tears. They burn her cheeks but don't change the cold state of her heart; and for some reason, she can't bring herself to care.

* * *

Here are the three things that she remembers well:

The small curve of his smile when he turned to her, tongue peeking out with excitement as he thought of a new idea.

The three different shades of blue his eyes attuned to; darker when he was aroused or angry, light when he was happy and laughing, plain when his eyes shuttered close to sleep.

The blood on her hands was warm liquid, congested quickly, but it was not as large as the blood that soaked the floor of his apartment.

* * *

Here are the three things that she wishes she were able to forget:

The crimson stain that his blood had left on the plush flooring of his loft.

The pale and complete clamminess to his skin when she'd entered the loft to find him, dropping to her knees and hands staining with his blood, lips pressing against his and breathing air into his forgotten lungs.

The diamond ring in a blue velvet box she found in his drawer three days later, engraved inside with the word _always._

* * *

When she wakes, she methodically showers, brushes her hair, dresses, pulls on the chain with two rings now, ignores the tightness in her chest and the empty space in her bed.

But as soon as she steps foot in the precinct, Captain Gates is already turning her away.

Kate goes home and lays down in the bed, stares at the ceiling until she's numb with it all.

* * *

Here are the three things she never witnessed:

The skip to his step as he'd sent her the text _come over, Mother and Alexis are out and I promise a marathon- the dirty kind._

The absolute admiration in his eyes as he'd stroked her toothbrush that had made permanent residence in his house, residing right beside his.

The pain that flitted across his devilish features as the knife had struck him from behind, the way it made his knees buckle and he fell to the floor, reaching for the phone that was just too far out of reach as the knife once again struck him- to the heart.

* * *

Here are the three things she witnesses:

The paramedics arriving only to tell her that it's too late, that's he's gone, that he's never coming back.

The absolute agony in Alexis' eyes as she'd arrived back to the loft later the evening, finding Kate waiting with the earth-shattering news.

The box that had lowered to the hole in the ground, carrying his body until it was gone- he was gone, gone, gone.

* * *

"Do you think he'd hate me for it?"

Kate turns and her eyes settle on the sunken face of the young redhead, but they don't truly see. They haze out for a moment until she gathers her thoughts, pressing her hands into her eyes until she sees all-white.

"I don't know." She answers plainly.

"He loved you."

"He loved you as you were."

"I can't be that girl anymore."

"I know," Kate sighs, blinking against the whiteness she sees.

"Do you think I should do it?"

"He didn't love me for that, you know. He loved me for who I am. That was just a part of it."

Regardless, Alexis pulls on the police uniform and pulls her limp hair into a ponytail that Kate thinks is supposed to look professional. It just looks like a lame attempt of not looking like you break with every step she takes. Does her own hair look like that?

"This is just a part of me, now."

"Don't lose yourself to this, Alexis. He'd never forgive you. He'd never forgive me for allowing it."

Alexis tilts her head to the side, but Kate's eyes have already drifted away, as they always do nowadays. They find a small ridge on the opposite wall to study. Wonders how it got there. If he had anything to do with it.

"He'd never forgive me for letting you lose yourself to this, Kate. I suppose we're both guilty."

Kate lets her walk out the door and onto the streets of New York, a fresh new officer with a tragic backstory and a reason as well as a drive to be there.

* * *

Here are the three things she never learns:

The last words that had tumbled from his lips in his final moments. _("Oh, God, oh-")_

The last thoughts that had jumped around in his brilliant mind as his eyes shut for the last time.

The last time his heart beat, whether she was still inside of it as he died.

* * *

Kate finds Alexis looking haggard, carrying a drunken Martha away from what they've dubbed "the drunk tank".

She offers her help, but the young girl moves on without a second glance.

Kate moves on in the precinct, back to her desk and the empty chair beside it. It's been untouched ever since.

* * *

Here are the three things she does learn:

The name of the killer was Marco Davis.

The weapon was a regular kitchen knife, winked at her as she placed it into an evidence bag.

The reason it all happened was because they'd arrested his wife two days before- a crime of passion, she supposes.

* * *

Unlike her Kate's dad, Martha does not make it through her alcoholism.

Kate keeps tabs on both her and Alexis throughout the years. It's easy because Alexis is determined to join homicide, and Martha is always being arrested and stuck away into the drunk tank.

Three weeks pass and Kate finds Alexis curled in a ball in one of the cubicles of the bathroom.

The tears in her eyes tell her everything.

* * *

Here are the three things she misses the most:

The way they made love, soft and sweet, fast and rough; no matter what, it was perfect, it was them.

The way he loved her at the pace she could love him too, never pushing but never relenting, his eyes reminding her of always.

The way her heart was secure in his hands, as she fell asleep in his arms and felt as though she were home.

* * *

Alexis beats her to youngest female detective by one day.

It's familiar to have a detective Castle at the precinct to work side-by-side with, but it's not the same.

* * *

When her lips find another's, she feels an overwhelming sense of wrongness and guilt.

But it's been eight years and surely, _surely, _her heart is allowed to move on at some point?

The guilt doesn't go away, so she pushes the guy away with a sigh. And she is sorry. She is. He's a nice guy.

He's just not the right one.

* * *

Here are the three things she will never have:

The over the top yet romantically sweet proposal, probably by a candlelit dinner or just out of the blue, because he had listened to her when she'd told Ryan women prefer intimate proposals.

The wedding and how perfect it would've been, how the butterflies in her stomach wouldn't leave her the whole day, especially as she pushed the ring onto his fingers with trembling hands and tears in her eyes.

The pregnancy, birth, and life of their child; a blue eyed son with her stubbornness but his smile as well as his thirst for life.

* * *

She loses both rings one day. On the job. Alexis is being held hostage by the murderer so she takes him down from behind, and in the midst of the struggle the chain tears away from her neck and falls down the drain on the road.

Alexis cries as much as she does, promises her that they'll find a way to get them back.

They don't.

* * *

"Castle." She sighs into an eager mouth ten years after it all.

The man above her stills, stares down at her with angry eyes that are the wrong shade of blue for her to fool herself this could've ever worked.

She doesn't judge him when he asks her to leave.

She sits by Castle's grave in the rain, closes her eyes and waits for it to wash her away, too.

* * *

Alexis pulls her act together. Becomes an amazing detective; better than Kate could ever hope to be. Marries a nice lawyer she meets during a trial and has three children.

They all have blue eyes.

* * *

It's a bullet that finally takes her.

And she is so, so glad when the pain overwhelms her and her eyes close.

She is so, so glad.


End file.
